I’m watching you as you push your pram down the street & noticing others look at you with a glint in their eye reminiscing about the time when they walked their baby along the same path. I see people taking sneak peaks at your baby & smiling at the newness of life & the innocence of the little face in the bassinet. Then I look at your face & there is a strong sense of familiarity. I’ve seen that face before. I don’t know you nor do I know your story, but I know that face.

I have the strongest urge to stop you in the street, look into your sunken & sad eyes & hug & tell you that things will get easier & you will get through this.

I want to tell that you didn’t ask to feel this way, that you didn’t choose to become unwell, nor did you do anything for this to happen to you. It’s either/or a combination of a chemical imbalance in your postpartum brain, torturous sleep deprivation, dealing with a traumatic birth or having a baby prematurely or with medical issues. It might be because you’re struggling with the transition to motherhood & all the expectations (yours & others) placed on your already overwhelmed & fragile shoulders. Whatever your reason, there is NO shame.

Please promise me that you’ll be honest with yourself about how you’re feeling & be honest with those around you that you trust, as well as with your healthcare provider. You don’t need to feel this way, nor do you deserve it. As tiring as motherhood is (especially with a newborn) pretending you’re ok is utterly exhausting & takes up too much room.

You’re not going to believe me now, given you’re in the eye of the storm, but having a PPMD will be one of the best things that will ever happen to you – as a person & as a mother. Your recovery will be hard, frustrating & challenging & there will be days you feel as though for every step forward is like two steps backwards, but as long you keep moving, you WILL get there.

I want you to know that you’re not alone.

I want you to know that help is out there.

I want you to stop believing everything you think.

I want to tell you that you will get through this.

I want to tell you that this is not forever.

As I sit here & watch you continue to push your pram down the street, I see that you’re putting one foot in front of the other & I know in my heart of hearts that you’ll be ok. I know this because I walked the exact same path. I just hope you see all the directions I continue to leave along the path making your journey easier & less lonely to navigate.

Sunday May 12th, is the 5th annual Mother’s Day Rally for Mums’ Mental Health. This Rally will feature 24 letters from survivors of PPD/PND, postnatal/partum anxiety, posnatal/tpartum OCD, depression after weaning &/or postnatal/partum psychosis. The purpose of these posts is to inform & encourage pregnant & new moms who may be struggling with their emotional health. The Rally is hosted by Postpartum Progress, the most widely-read blog in the world on postpartum depression & other mental illnesses related to pregnancy & childbirth. To read the other posts on this Mother’s Day Rally, click here.

After the birth of my daughter 4.5 years ago, I experienced the complete opposite of what the books, movies, other mums had told me about birth & the overwhelming love you feel when you see your newborn baby & when you bring your baby home. I felt like a fraud for acting as though I was in love & bonded with my baby, I felt ashamed, numb, confused, angry, robbed & mostly alone.

As my journey of recovery continued, I met many other mums that had suffered the same experiences in early motherhood than me & I no longer felt so alone. It didn’t matter whether or not their stories were ‘worse’ or ‘better’ than mine – it was just that they had been ravaged by the same Demon & were desperately trying to return to the same person they were before it attacked.

DH & I kept it a secret that I was unwell & admitted to a Psych facility (aka nuthouse) with our baby & told our family & friends that we were at sleep school. It’s not that I was ashamed, I just wanted to focus on my recovery & not what people thought of me. It was Valentine’s Day 2012 where I first shared my story. It was my hope that through my words I would be able to reach out & talk to mothers out there suffering in silence.

By opening up & sharing my story, I’ve allowed myself to be vulnerable, whilst at the same time acknowledging that shame & judgment are likely to be their companion. I had to make a conscious decision to not care about that. I can’t control people’s opinions or thoughts, so I decided that the fear of judgment was not going to get in my way of spreading awareness & finally taking my mask off & telling my story.

The things I’d like to share in this blog hop are the things that I’ve learned as a result of my journey. Mental illness, specifically a Postpartum/Postnatal mood disorder (depression, anxiety, OCD) or Postpartum/Postnatal Psychosis – it’s just not something you choose to have or want following the birth of your child or following an adoption. It’s a hard time for our families, friends & social circle to understand what we’re going through & it’s challenging as they don’t know how to help us which makes as frustrated in kind. Our symptoms are invisible & unobvious so it’s easy for people to distance themselves from us if our illness goes beyond ‘the expected time for recovery’. I’ve learnt that PPMD’s don’t discriminate – it doesn’t matter what socio-economic status you are, what faith you are, what nationally, race or creed. It doesn’t matter what support you have, what means you have or what your social standing you are. It is one of the most levelling of life’s experiences one can have.

But here’s what I can tell you: I can tell you however is that recovery is possible & that help is out there. I can tell you that you’re most definitely alone & never will be in your journey to recovery. I can tell you that the way you feel today will not last forever & you will get through it. I can tell you that there is NO shame. I can tell you that there are some absolutely wonderful peer supports available online (#PPDChat on Twitter, #PPDChat closed FB support group, Postpartum Progress to name a few & also my group on having a baby after a PPMD) if you’re not comfortable attending an IRL group or if there’s not one close to where you live/work. And I can tell you that there are the most AMAZING & brave women that I’ve had the honour & privilege of meeting & calling my friends through opening up & sharing my story.

I want you to all know that you are worthy. I want you to all know you are important. I want you to all know that you matter. I want you to know that being ‘good enough’ is ok. I want you to all know that you now have an Army behind you, supporting you, loving you & are your biggest advocate & voice when you’ve lost yours.

In May 2011 Postpartum Support International (PSI) declared May as Maternal Mental Health Awareness Month. Since 2011, more States in the US & many counties across the globe have now designated May as a time to bring awareness to maternal mental health. This year, PSI is launching their first maternal mental health awareness month blog hop & the topic being explored is mental health recovery & coping skills. If you are a blogger who has experienced postpartum depression (PPD) or any other PPMD, please consider joining the blog hop to help spread awareness. Visit the two blog hop host blogs, Kathy Morelli’s Birthtouch & Dr. Christi Hibbert’s blog, to review further information & guidelines & also see all the other bloggers that are participating this year.

I’m a sucker for reality TV. I’ve been known to obsess over cooking competitions, losing weight competitions, renovating competitions & those medical documentaries featuring women having babies i.e. One Born Every Minute & more recently, The Midwives which are both documentaries from the UK.

Last Thursday night I was watching the latest episode of The Midwives (see episode synopsis below). This episode focused on the Midwives visiting the homes of mums & newborns after being discharged from hospital soon after the birth of their babies. The show has showed a range of births (water, natural births with & without pain relief, c-secs etc) & invites you into the lives of women who you would never otherwise know anything about… especially since I live on the other side of the globe.

So, episode 5, a midwife is looking for a mum that was discharged from the hospital. There was a mix up with the addresses & she was driving around an, shall I just say, average suburb looking for this family. The voiceover explained what was going on & somehow the copywriter had decided that this was the spot in the documentary that they would mention Postnatal/partum Depression & provide the statistics of how many mums in the UK suffer from this postnatal mood disorder (that they know about – I know for a fact that some women are still too scared to come forward).

Voiceover: ‘One in ten of the women Di looks after suffers Postnatal Depression. Every year in Britain between five & ten babies are abandoned, so it’s vital that Di tracks down the baby & it’s mother’.

So, to recap, one in ten of the women this one Midwife looks after has PND. This seems plausible & I don’t have any issues that that sentence. It’s the next sentence I have an issue with – Linking mothers with PND as the cause for the rate of abandoned babies in the UK. Sure it may be the case at times, but I dare go out on a limb here & say that the rate of abandoned babies might also be due to economical reasons & perhaps social reasons, like the climbing rate of teenage pregnancies.

This quote shocked me. It’s not often that I hear something like mere stats & figures about any PPMD that angers me. I actually welcome the discussion because, the more we talk about it, the less shame & the less stigma associated with this & all other Postnatal mood disorders. And the more dialogue, the more women will feel safe & empowered to speak up & get help. But, to link the number of abandoned babies to mothers with PND is, in my opinion only, both misleading & incorrect. I’m all for using facts & statistics – but they need to be accurate.

Excluding the social & economic reasons for why someone would abandon their baby, I want to focus on the PPMD as being the cause & impetus for this abandonment. In my experience & from the research I’ve done & from all the discussions I’ve had with other mothers that suffer or are survivors of a PPMD, it’s not the merely the depression or anxiety that makes them act recklessly & spontaneously, rather the hallucinations etc that is linked to PP/PN psychosis. The depression & the anxiety create the basis of the thoughts that plague their minds for days & sometimes weeks on end, but it’s the psychosis that makes some mothers act & follow through on these thoughts – this is what fundamentally separates the depressed & the psychotic when it comes to PPMD’s.

Most of the mums I know that suffer/have suffered with their PPMD talk about the repetitive nature of negative self-talk, harming their baby & even the thought of leaving the baby & their family as they would be better off without them (note: leaving their baby in safe hands as they feel they’re the unsafe ones). It’s not often that I have heard of thoughts them wanting to abandon their baby on a doorstep with just anyone. Certainly in cases of Postnatal/partum Psychosis, but not depression/anxiety & I think making a broad statement like that is both unfair & misleading. It’s painting a very broad stroke & I actually feel (surprisingly) offended by this assumption.

I get how scary mental illness is to people that are lucky to have never suffered from any, I get how scary PPD/PND is to women & mothers that have not experienced it (luckily & thankfully) & I get how sad & awful it looks to people that don’t get it, but what I find hurtful, is people with ‘authority’ claiming & embellishing that PND makes you do things that are evil & incomprehensible according to social mores & values which is not (usually & actually) factual. PPMD education & dialogue can be an uphill battle at the best of times due to fear & prejudice, but if met with people that presume we’re all evil is another unnecessary hurdle we have to climb.

My initial thought after hearing the voiceover on the program was, ‘hang on, we don’t all want to or actually abandon our babies’. And I guess that’s the point of this post.

Am I wrong? Am I right? Am I being too sensitive? Am I reading too far into this?

The community midwives of Manchester’s Saint Mary’s Hospital are responsible for almost 5,000 newborn babies every year. Every day they are trying to spot the mums who might need more than just a cursory examination – determining which mums will cope easily with a new baby and which ones might have a struggle.

For 10 days after each baby is born, they go into the homes of new parents to offer help and make sure that mums are well and that the babies are being properly looked after. Midwife Joyce is concerned about single mum-to-be Fizah because of her complicated family background. Joyce has referred Fizah to the Vulnerable Babies Service, so they can keep an eye on how she is coping as a new mum. Midwife Farhana is looking after Monique, who is also single and was homeless until recently. But she has to drop everything to go and help a woman who has chosen to give birth in her own front room. Meanwhile, the mother that midwife Di is supposed to be looking after has gone missing the day after being discharged from hospital. With Britain in the middle of the biggest baby boom in 40 years, this film looks at how midwives look after new mums and new babies who might be at their most vulnerable.

Yael from PPD to Joy kindly asked me to share with you all my journey on recovering from PPD within a Jewish community in Melbourne Australia.

Allow me to tell you a little bit about myself and the most beautiful city in the world, where I live. I’m a born and bred Melbourne-ite. I attended a private Jewish day school and went on to study at Monash University where I got a degree in marketing. I went on to work in the account departments of various advertising agencies over the next ten years before I left to have my first baby.

The Melbourne Jewish community is made up of the largest number of Holocaust survivors of any Australian city – the highest per capita concentration outside of Israel itself. We have a vibrant Jewish community inclusive of Ultra orthodox, Lubavitch, Modern Orthodox and Progressive Jews. There are many synagogues, Jewish schools, youth groups, kosher food a plenty (well, for Australian standards anyway). Most of our grandparents have/had European accents and we grew up eating very unAustralian foods. We are a small community – everyone knows someone who knows someone, who went to school with someone, had a date with someone or is now related to someone by marriage. And this stems global too, as family and friends move, marry and migrate.

When I was in the second grade, my father went to live in Israel for six months in order to study to become a Rabbi. He graduated and returned to Melbourne to take up the position of the Rabbi of Kew Hebrew Synagogue, a modern Orthodox Synagogue in the South Eastern suburbs of Melbourne. I wasn’t too sure at the time what to make of his job and new role and most certainly didn’t think about how it would impact my life – after all, it was just my dad’s job!

Soon after my dad took on the position our family was thrust into the limelight. Everyone knew who we were and we couldn’t go anywhere without being recognized or talked about. I recall my parents often telling me that ‘such ‘n such’ saw me at the movies with my friends – it was as though there were little spies reporting where we were, what we did, who we were with, etc. It was as though I lived in a fishbowl.

My upbringing was all about appearances. It didn’t matter what was going on in our home behind closed doors – when we were in public, it was business as usual and we donned our masks. I didn’t realize just how damaging this was until I was nineteen and we had what would be called a ‘scandal’ in my family, we all continued on with that Victoria Grayson smile and mask covering extreme sadness. I had learnt and mastered to hide pain and put up a front.

Following the birth of my DD and the hell that followed and my admission to the nuthouse I was adamant I didn’t want people to know where I was (other than close family and friends I felt safe with). For once in my life I wanted to control over who knew my business. I wasn’t ashamed, I just wanted to focus on my recovery and not what people thought of me. I just didn’t want to be the topic of gossip as they lined up for bagels on a Sunday morning. (My family was already on the ‘front page’ as my parents separated and divorced after 39 years of marriage and there was a lot of speculation as to why — I needed my time to heal from that too). We told out friends we were off to sleep school as DD wasn’t sleeping very well and we were there longer than the usual five-day admission as she was premature and needed additional support with sleeping and settling.

This photo was taken at a friends wedding the day before I was admitted to the mother infant unit in a psych facility. (L-R) My husband Seon, our daughter Orli and my mask. The name Orli means ‘my light’ in Hebrew. If only I knew how appropriate this was going to be when we named her.

Eighteen months following my admission and well and truly on my road to recovery, I discovered #PPDChat on Twitter – a wonderful circle of mums that came together to share our ups and downs openly (without any judgment), honestly and with an outpouring of love I had never experienced before in the online community. Some of us were in the trenches, some were climbing out and some at the top helping to pull up those below. I started participating in discussions, joined groups (BAPPD – the baby after PPD Survivor Sisters) under a pseudonym – Not Just About Wee – as I didn’t want anyone to know who I was. I have always maintained and still do, that it was never about feeling ashamed of having Postpartum Mood Disorder (PMD), I just wanted to be able to be completely open and honest and feel safe and I wasn’t sure I could do that with people knowing who I was.

What if I had known the person I was chatting to in real life? Would they start telling everyone I knew my story? That wasn’t fair. It was my story to tell – if I wanted to tell it. I was so protective of myself and my (nuclear) family and was adamant I didn’t want everyone knowing my business. I just wanted my own space and privacy to start/continue my journey of recovery.

I was extremely mindful about how I was perceived in the online community by remaining anonymous and not revealing my identity. No one ever asked my name – there was a kind a respectful understanding of someone wanting to remain anonymous. I was never asked to divulge who I was. Despite this, at times, I still felt dishonest by not being completely transparent.

I ‘came out’ to my #PPDChat mamas when the FaceBook support page was created. I felt a great sense of freedom, honesty and truth finally disclosing my real identity. My pseudonym was my virtual mask and I was finally ready to take it off. I no longer cared who knew who I really was. I was sure no one knew me anyway, so it was another way I could ease myself into be open within my community and extended social circle.

The series on Postpartum Progress was the first time I had ever told my story in full disclosure. I stripped myself completely bare for all to see. There were some things in there that I had never told my husband or closest friends. Some of the thoughts I had in the eye of the storm had been revealed in group therapy (with the tidal wave of guilt that accompanied it), however I never really discussed the details of my hell unless I felt completely safe and where I was certain judgment would not be present.

I had spent the previous two years feeling safe on the #PPDChat Support page on FaceBook and various other support groups (e.g. for my sons medical condition). I contributed, I shared stories, offered advice, support and friendship and was unashamedly a recovered mad sad mummy. It wasn’t until my BAPPD sisters and I decided to tell our story that I had to really think about whether I could share my story openly for the world to see. After many days of soul-searching I decided that I wanted share my voice. I wanted to offer hope. I wanted to remove the stigma and the shame of all PMD’s. I wanted to shout from the rooftops ‘this is not forever’. If by my words I could console and comfort only one mother, it would all be worth it.

I was proud of the work I did with my BAPPD Survivor Mamas, however as soon as I posted the first days series on my personal FaceBook newsfeed I immediately felt exposed, fragile and vulnerable – now everyone knew my story and I would be talked about – good or bad, it didn’t matter.

I received lots of wonderful, uplifting and heartfelt messages of support from people who I don’t often interact with on FaceBook both on my newsfeed and in private messages. This made me feel proud in a way I had not prepared myself for. It was truly heartwarming and encouraging and I knew I had made the right decision by opening up. I’m still allowing myself to feel exposed because I am, but I’m working on not caring!

I hoped by sharing my story would help remove the shame associated with any PMD generally and also within the Jewish community. Also it was me sharing my story so nothing could be taken out of context, nothing could be made up, no details could be sensationalized because they were my words. I was able to be in control of the message that went out, which for me has been a huge accomplishment.

I’m not aware of anyone in the Melbourne Jewish community that has suffered from any sort of PMD. And I know lots of people. And they/their partners had given birth. It is just not discussed and this just baffles me. Still to this day when a mother you know attends a baby sleep clinic the assumption is that the mother is struggling with the lack of sleep and it’s the baby that needs help to sleep and settle. There is nothing wrong with the mother and she definitely isn’t suffering with any Postpartum Mood Disorder.

If I’m being truthful, it really doesn’t matter about my background, my upbringing, my religion or anything. Postpartum Mood Disorders (PMD’s) are still not talked about in our community, in most communities and it’s as though the problem doesn’t exist. I find this extremely sad and disheartening.

I am not going to say that everything happens for a reason as I believe things just happen because they happen. There is no reason I got my PMD over the girl next door. It’s what I am doing about having and surviving from my PMD that matters. I would like to think that sharing my story will start the dialogue and get people sharing, talking, listening, helping and loving so that the shame and stigma of having PPD diminishes and one day is no longer. I want to arm expectant mums, new mums and experienced mums with information about PMD’s – and it’s lack of religious and social discrimination – that help is available and recovery is possible. Most importantly, I wish to impart the message of hope to every mother, no matter what race or creed.

As you know while I was pregnant with Flynn I was part of an amazing group of Survivor Mamas called the ‘baby after PPD‘ group. This group of Survivor Mamas were a much needed support during my pregnancy & in the first six months of Flynn’s life – the nine weeks in hospital & the months following as we constantly worried about his feeding & weight gain.

I’m about to help out some Mamas who are thinking of having a baby after their PPMD, to start a FaceBook support group & am shouting out to anyone who wishes to join up. The group will be completely private so that only those in the group will be able to view your comments or posts.

The group will be supporting each other on various topics including staying on/coming off medication while trying to conceive & during your pregnancy*, ways to prepare yourself for the postnatal/partum period, action plans for the postnatal/partum period, preparing your toddler for their new sibling, anxieties relating to your pregnancy & postnatal/partum period, setting up support systems for when the baby arrives etc. We will also be asking those that have managed to have a better postnatal/partum experience after their PPMD to share their wisdom & insights in order for the group members to get both real life examples as well as the proof that having a better experience is possible.

This is my way of paying it forward as the support I received was invaluable. Thanks Amber for starting up our group back then & the lifeline it provided me.

If you’re interested in joining the group, please fill in your details below or email me at yuz@notjustaboutwee.com & we’ll contact you when we’re up & running.

* We are not medical experts or medically trained in any way when it comes to discussing medications, dosages, weaning or staying medicated during your pregnancy. We will be offering support in whatever decision you make in consultation with your OB, midwife, GP or physician.

I’m feeling as though you’re not as committed to our relationship as I am & I’m starting to really question the way you treat me sometimes, specifically, the way you leave me without word, without warning & without reason.

We’ve had a really tumultuous time together haven’t we. Me being that little bit behind in Primary school – & needing catching up which included me staying down in year one, needing remedial reading & math – was really hard on you but we got there. You disappeared for while after my grade three teacher calling me stupid in front of my class but came back a year later when I started enjoying learning again having a wonderful encouraging teacher. You always remained in the gym with me when I had my gymnastics classes & in my backyard when trampolining. I was the happiest then & you really helped get me back on track academically. In grade six I had the most wonderful teacher who made me absolutely love learning & school & we were so very close that year & I’ll cherish that forever.

High school was rough on us both. Boys, bras, periods, lack of attention, bullying, bitchy girls, being labelled & judged for being a Rabbi’s daughter etc was really difficult, but things got better when we moved schools for year 11 & 12. And after school, boy-o-boy did things get even better. University brought out the academic in me. I started getting high marks because I was doing subjects I wanted to do & was good at. I loved learning, was studious, did all my assignments, handed them in on time & had a ball socially as there were no preconceived notions of who I was & how I should behave etc. Why am I reminding you ? You were there!

Fast forward a few years & I was working in advertising – I was presenting to marketing managers in large corporations, was juggling the demands of my clients with the wishes & visions of my creative department & was loyal & committed to the bosses of the two agencies I was at the longest. I had fantastic relationships with my clients & all my performance reviews reflected that. You were at an all time high & we were going places. After years of feeling as though I had to prove myself, we settled into a nice rhythm & this permeated into my social life also which now included people I enjoyed spending time with & people who made me feel good about myself.

Fast forward to a few broken hearts & relationship learning experiences about being important in someone else’s life & not just an appendage, a long distance relationship that ended as soon as it started due to the apathy & fear of the other partner & a promised life together with picket fences & kids only to have shared this person with another – except I didn’t know about it. Happiness & you returned when I met Seon. A proposal six months later & a wedding seven months after that & before we knew it we were pregnant & then pregnant again with Orli.

And then our beautiful Orli was born. We had had spent a lot of time preparing for the baby & read up on what to expect, about breastfeeding, about routines & settling, but as soon as she was born & before we could put anything into place that we’d learnt together, you left. Without warning. Just like that. Like a puff of white smoke. I was a empty shell trying to get through the days. A prem baby, being separated from birth & then coming home without her & feeling completely in over my head & out of control was the start of what I call the eye of the storm. In those days I begged for your return, but you stubbornly stayed away & kept your distance. I didn’t understand why you stayed away but you crept back ever.so.slowly over the next year. You played with me & my emotions time & time again. You teased me & at times laughed in my face, but that entire time I pretended you were with me. And it was exhausting. I wondered what you were teaching me but I couldn’t see it & it pissed me off. A lot. But in time, things between us improved & my relationship with Orli grew stronger & stronger.

Just under two years later we had a big talk about having another baby. I’d done a lot of therapy & work in that time & was sure that this time round you were going to stay by my side. We had this one in the bag. As the pregnancy continued & the issues & complications increased we were still doing ok. Following the birth things were still looking good between us. After week home with Flynn you were slowly edging your way out the door. He wasn’t feeding very well & we went back to hospital. We were there for nine weeks & in that time you seldom visited. I just don’t understand why you were not there as I really could have done with you – even for an hour a day. We had been through & survived so much together & I just found this distance kind of cruel & unfair.

After nine weeks & Flynn’s discharge we returned home & you came back too. You had a knowing smile & a familiarity & settled back with me. Three months later you came with me to a mother & baby unit & settling school in order to give Flynn the gift of sleep. And me too! You came with us as I was sure that this five days would be so beneficial to us all. You hadn’t gone anywhere this time, I was just too tired to find you. I didn’t feel defeated, just deflated & exhausted, but five days later we came home together with renewed affection & the basis of a really wonderful long lasting relationship.

Flynn still struggles with his food & drinking/eating but I think we’re doing really well together. We’ve often had to lean on our Laryngomalacia, Tracheomalacia, Bronchomalacia in Australia (LTBM Australia) support group for things like food supplements, food & feeding advice, help & ideas & encouragement to go to a speech pathologist etc. I am & will be forever grateful for their existence, support & space & have not shied away from letting you know just how fickle you can sometimes be in our relationship.

Just recently Flynn was trying to tell me he wanted to drop down to one day sleep. And you went on a hiatus. Seriously!? How did we get here again? After everything we’d been through a change in a sleep schedule sends you away! Really!? Just so you know, I did it. With the help a few friends & digging in deep, I did it. And what’s more, is that I can feel your presence again & I truly hope you stay.

I know being there all the time with me can be tiring & sometimes unrelenting, but I really need you to roll with the punches – because clearly I can’t. That’s who you are & what I need you to be for me. There are so many times when Patty decides to drop in unannounced & I know if you were there with me, she’d have no reason to stay. And with you taking up the last chair at the table, she’d have nowhere to sit.

So Confidence, my dear friend, I’m asking you from the depths of my being to please stay with me. I need you & I can’t be who I want to be without you. I can’t be a good enough wife for Seon or a good enough mum to my kids without you. So please unpack your bags for good, put on your comfy shoes & get comfortable, cos I think you’ll be staying a while.

About Me

I'm a mum to two premature babies both born at 36wks & a PND/PPD/PPA survivor having been admitted to the nuthouse following my daughters birth five years ago. This is my story & journey of both enduring & enjoying motherhood.